All Hail The Thrift Shop
I tell you often enough about the thrift shop I frequent. It’s good for me, as I like all sorts of music (Deke calls me a “melting pot”). You just never know what they’re gonna add to their shelves.
True, I wade through a lot of shit before finding goodness, I mean, tons. Quality is definitely an issue. This place takes donations, so people ditch their crap, with scuffs and scratches and all manner of nastiness. Since I demand collection integrity, I leave a lot behind. A LOT.
So why do I bother with such a fool’s errand? Simple. Every so often, I strike gold. Like last night…
The 2CD Best Of Bruce Dickinson. Yes.
In truth, I figured if it was there, it was gonna be beaten to shit. But nope, it’s pristine… To say I was giddy is understatement. I actually laughed out loud in the shop. The rare moments in this short life are things I truly appreciate.
It’s not just for having all of that Bruce Bruce goodness, but because I know the real value of that set, above and beyond what any sentient record store would charge for it. I am truly bringing it into a warm and welcoming home, giving it a chance to be played often and really fucking loudly. Like now, as I type this, it’s blaring away and it’s bloody brilliant.
I am a very, very happy camper.